


A New Arrangement

by Sharklist6285



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, M/M, New Relationship, Pre-Apocalypse, ill add tags later, k maybe a lot of angst, little angst, not really sure what im writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-07 21:17:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21224351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharklist6285/pseuds/Sharklist6285
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley reach a develepment in their arrangement and certain changes must be made.





	1. A New Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> So I thought of this idea and had to get it down. I have a lot to write but the first chapter works as a one-shot so I'm posting it and you can tell me what you think. In the meantime I'll be writing more.

It didn’t matter when it happened. Whether it was with oysters for lunch in Rome, or over crêpes in Paris, at a bookshop opening, or after fight that needed a better end. It didn’t matter where; whether in a bookshop, or a tavern in Wales, or a darkened alleyway, or the middle of the street. And it certainly didn’t matter who. Who cared if it was Crowley, slightly too drunk, too uninhibited; or an inexplicably brave Aziraphale, giving voice to long hidden feeling? It could’ve been Crowley’s endless mutterings finally being deciphered, a clever, yet oblivious, Angel finally getting a hint, or just simple eye contact and a fall so much sweeter than a saunter in a vaguely downward direction.  
The point is that here they now were, an angel and a demon, holding on to one another, afraid to let go. Confessions and kisses had been shared, tears and bonds had been formed, and now lay the quiet, the simple acknowledgment of all that they’d been, all they’d felt and where they were now. Hands were held foreheads touched and legs so intertwined they would have trouble getting up.  
After the initial rush of contact and emotion had faded, Angel and demon, breathed quietly together, never more than a hairsbreadth apart. Later, would come talking, they knew; discussions and arrangements and practicalities, not to mention precautions and prepared lies and plans to stay safe, but none of that mattered now. 


	2. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens after Crowley and Aziraphale confess their love for each other? Where do they go from here?

Dawn broke; the sun’s light slowly creeping over the mattress on which a demon and an angel lay. All had been peaceful up to now. Neither being had slept, yet neither had wanted to miss a moment of what was transpiring between them. After so long of keeping it all in, it was utterly freeing to have everything out in the open. But nothing lasts forever, and the sun shining through the window signaled the security the night provided was fading and there were things too dangerous to be seen about in the light of day.  
Crowley noticed the change in Aziraphale immediately. He had been laying with one arm around the angel’s back, the other softly caressing his arm. Aziraphale had taken to alternating between having his head rest on the demon’s shoulder and pressing their foreheads gently together. The change occurred, when Aziraphale glanced behind Crowley to the oncoming light, and shivered slightly, tensing and drawing the slightest bit closer to the body next to him. Lifting the angel’s face with soft caresses of his cheeks – Crowley was shocked to feel the wetness of tears there – he looked deep into those gorgeous blues, trying to convey the devotion he felt towards his ethereal partner.  
“Hey. Angel,” he whispered, the remaining serenity of the atmosphere demanding quiet even still. In the silence that followed, Crowley felt momentary panic, his past insecurities that’d vanished at the first kiss, came rushing back: Aziraphale regretted this, he didn’t really love Crowley, he loved Heaven more, he never wanted to see Crowley again…  
However, the ever-tightening grip the angel had on his clothes suggested otherwise. Pushing away his fear, Crowley asked gently,  
“What’s wrong, angel?”  
Aziraphale breathed shakily and looked up at him, beautiful blue eyes shining with remaining sadness.  
“We’re out of time,” he answered softly, tears beginning anew.  
Relief and sorrow warred in Crowley’s chest, before relief won and he gathered the angel in his arms, held him close to his chest, pressed kisses to his soft curls and repeated all the things he’d said the night before. He held him until the tears soaked into Crowley's shirt, and Aziraphale could breathe calmly once more. Having his world in his arms, Crowley realized a few things. 1. There was no better feeling than this. Nothing came close to being wrapped around Aziraphale, knowing he was safe and cared for, that Crowley was responsible for his comfort. 2, there was nothing on Earth, Heaven or Hell that could take this away from him. 3, anyone who tried would very rapidly wish they hadn’t; Crowley would move the stars to keep what he’d worked so hard to gain. With Aziraphale’s cries softened to quiet breathing into Crowley’s chest, he lifted the angel’s face and said very sternly,  
“This is not the end, angel. I don’t know what you think will happen, but I’ve not loved you for over five thousand years to spend just one night with you. Whatever happens, however we move forward, I will always be there for you. Just like this, you understand?”  
Aziraphale, mesmerized by the demon’s eyes and the emotion behind them, nodded mutely. Crowley softened his expression and pressed a soft kiss to the principality’s forehead.  
“Say it again,” Aziraphale whispered shyly, when their eyes met again.  
Crowley raised an eyebrow – to which Aziraphale smiled slightly – but spoke, voice filled with emotion, “I love you.”  
Aziraphale closed his eyes and drew closer to his darling. Crowley’s arms encircled him once more, and both sighed in contentment.  
“Again,” the angel pleaded.  
Crowley never could resist his angel; besides, after millennia of hiding his love, it felt good to declare it for the world – or at least Aziraphale – to hear. “I love you.” He paused before adding, “Angel, this isn’t the last time you’ll hear me say that. I told you; I’m not saying goodbye.”  
Aziraphale lifted his head and sat up properly, the desperate look back in his eye. “How is it not? Crowley, this isn’t a fairytale. The world doesn’t suddenly change because we shared “I love you”s. You’re still a demon, I’m still an angel. You know I wouldn’t change that, not for anything, but we both still have people we report to, others keeping tabs on us. In what way can we make this work? If Heaven catches me, they’ll take me away…I won’t…I won’t s-see you again.” His eyes welled up with tears as before. “And if Hell finds you, oh, Crowley, if they find you, they’ll…” his voice broke once more. “Not mention what we’ll suffer if we’re found together.”  
“Angel,” Crowley cut in, before he could say anymore, sitting up as well, “stop it, it won’t come to that. We’ll just be careful; we’ve had the Arrangement for some time now, and they haven’t suspected anything. This’ll just be an extension of that. We’ll be fine, I’ll see to it.”  
Aziraphale’s eyes got impossibly sadder. “No, my darling, it won’t be. I won’t be able to stay away from you for any length of time if we keep this up. With Heaven and Hells periodic check-ins, there’s no way we won’t be found out if we’re constantly together. Even with their complete lack of imagination, I’m certain they’re competent enough to figure it out. I’m sorry, love, but they will stop us; we will not be fine.”  
Crowley tensed and grasped the angel’s hands in his own. “We’ll be extra careful, we’ll hide, I’ll protect you angel, I swear, no harm will come to you…” he trailed off. His eyes were fixed on Aziraphale's, trying to impart how serious he was, how far he would go, but somehow, he knew it wasn’t enough.  
“Dearest, it’s too dangerous. I won’t risk it. I won’t risk you. I’m so sorry; I wish there was another way, I wish we had more time, but we can’t…we have to… I should go.” He released his hands from Crowley’s grip, sliding to the edge of the bed and off it, moving to the chair in the corner where he’d piled his cloak and other accessories.  
Crowley called after him in protest, shocked at this sudden change in atmosphere. Just five minutes ago, they’d been cuddling close together on the bed. “Angel. Aziraphale, stop. Let’s talk about this.”  
Aziraphale paused with his cloak in his hands, speaking without turning. “We’ve talked enough, Crowley. There’s nothing more to say.”  
“You can’t just leave.” The desperation leaked out of his voice like sand through a sieve.  
Aziraphale spun sharply, the fabric of the cloak scrunched in his hands. “And what would you have me do? I won’t watch you get hurt, I won’t! And how could I even live knowing it was my fault, I’m just trying to protect you, don’t make this harder for me.”  
Crowley was unable to move, frozen in his despair. Was this really all they had? One night of closeness, and that was it? If Aziraphale left would he ever see him again? If he did would they ever touch? It broke Crowley to think he’d never hold his angel in his arms again.  
“Please, angel. Don’t go; I need you.” It was all he could say, all he had left. All he could do not to fall at Aziraphale's feet and beg him not to go. Aziraphale stumbled through the motions of fixing his attire, clearly on the edge of falling apart as well. Then why is he leaving? Crowley cried in his mind.  
“I told you, Crowley. One night is all I have. I have to be moving on, I’d be leaving anyway. You know how it is; I can’t disobey.”  
Crowley’s heart sank. Was this really how it was? All his love for the angel, and still he was second fiddle? Never good enough; no, never enough, not for Heaven. He tried one more time, unsure of where, what, who, he’d be if Aziraphale left. “Please, angel. I’ll do anything. Just stay one more night, just one more.”  
Aziraphale’s eyes met his and mysteriously, they were hard, harder than Crowley’d ever seen them. Why? Why was Aziraphale pulling away from him now? His mouth was set, and his brow furrowed, like he’d come to a hard decision. No! Crowley implored, come back to me, angel! Don’t leave me like this! His silent pleas were left unheard, however, as Aziraphale spoke the words shaped to tear Crowley apart.  
“I-I can’t. I’m sorry, dear. I’ve wasted too much time already.” He looked away, evidently it was too much. Crowley saw it as another dismissal, another way he would never be enough. “I shouldn’t have stayed too long; they’ll notice if I’m there in time. We shouldn’t have… This, this was a mistake. I’m so sorry, my dear; I never meant it to get so far, I should have been more careful.”  
Crowley sat still on the bed, trying, and failing, to process Aziraphale’s words. This was a mistake. A mistake. Crowley had spent most of last night, and some time this morning hoping beyond hope he wouldn’t hear those words. It was a mistake. Years and years, he’d spent sliding and nudging, prodding and teasing, cautiously taking what he could gain from Aziraphale, hopefully without the angel pulling away. For five thousand or so odd years, he’d managed so, and now, it seemed, ruined it all in one night. Having spent the night as he had, Crowley had assumed the rules had changed. Danger and caution had been put aside, and desire and connection had ruled in their place. Crowley had always been careful around Aziraphale, the angel he’d loved for millennia, the one he wanted always to be close to. And every time they’d met, he’d held back, afraid of the consequences, as well as the unavoidable, inevitable rejection. But everything had changed last night, or rather, it was supposed to have. The angel, his angel, had accepted him; everything they’d felt had been open and shared, reciprocated, expounded on, and Crowley had never experienced anything that had felt as right. But no, this had been a mistake. The word burned Crowley to the core. A mistake, a sin, a wrong. A mistake, not to be repeated, to regret, to shame, to forget. Where did that leave them, then? If their love was a mistake, what did that say about their friendship? Would they ever speak if their paths crossed again? What if the mistake was lying? That this had all been a lie that Aziraphale regretted only now?  
The thoughts ran in circles in Crowley’s head, but in the end, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because the words “this was a mistake” spoken by Aziraphale, repeated themselves in Crowley’s mind and he knew. There was no changing the angel’s mind. Well, then. That was that.  
And suddenly, Crowley needed him to leave. Needed him to go and follow whatever asinine orders those fucking angels had for him so Crowley could be alone. So he could cry his heart out with no one to see. Forcing the tears back behind a cover of anger, he spoke into the silence, voice icily cold,  
“I see. A mistake, right. Of course. Never thought otherwise. I guess you should go then; can’t disappoint Heaven.” Crowley knew his didn’t sound at all convincing, yet it didn’t matter. Because Aziraphale was leaving him, and nothing could change that. He thought of maybe shouting “I hate you!” at him, show him the hurt Crowley felt, but knew he could never do it. Even in his head, the lie was bitter, it hurt too much. As did the image of the inevitable pouting and tears he’d have to face from his angel, because the truth was, he still loved him. He would always love him, him and his stupid clothes and fascination with books. His stupid, beautiful curls, and love for all things delectable. And of course, his stupidly perfect smile and sparkling blue eyes. And none of that would ever be his.  
“I’m sorry, Crowley,” Aziraphale said one last time. And he was gone.  
Crowley lasted all of five seconds before he exhaled shakily and it all came out. All at once, he was sobbing, his eyes flooding with tears at a volume he didn’t know was possible, certain there would be no liquid left in his body after this. His throat too thick for sounds, he needed to find some release and stuck his head into a pillow and screamed for all he was worth. He screamed until there was no air left in his lungs, and then, somehow, screamed some more. When he felt hoarseness cut off his voice, he closed his mouth and began to shake. His whole body suffered from grief and he felt it down to his bones. His worst nightmare had come true and he was unsure if he would survive to its end, let alone long enough to come out the other side. His shaking subsided to small tremors, but he was far from fine. His eyes hurt, his throat was sore, his whole body limp and useless, and still he cried. He cried for the past, the friendship they’d shared, their time together; he cried for the present, this one night, that now felt more like a lie, a fantasy to torture him; and he cried for the future, seeming so much more bleak and lonely, containing only the hurt from the past and no promise for happiness to come.  
The inn they’d been staying at would be filing up soon and there was a chance another patron would find a sobbing demon in one of the rooms. If Crowley had orders to carry out from Hell, temptations or whatnot, he paid them no mind, because it didn’t matter. Nothing did, let alone himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how's that for some angst? I know, I'm horrible. Don't worry, things get better from here. Or do they??? No really, they do. Hopefully the next chapter will be posted soon.


	3. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't edited, so sorry for mistakes. Also, I have no idea what period this is in, so sorry if there are any inaccuracies.

Aziraphale wandered through the square, looking for his target. A well-dressed man, late forties, gaggle of women surrounding him, this was supposed to be a quick blessing and a short nudging before moving on. However, Aziraphale had argued for more time in Florence, explaining how much more he could change the city for the good if he had more time to stay. His request had been granted and so, blessing accomplished, Aziraphale headed to the nearest bakery for some tasty treats. In reality, there was a lot of change to be had in this city, yet Aziraphale’s desire to stay had more to do with the delicious delicacies, glorious sights and fountain of knowledge being produced here. If Aziraphale could be allowed to stay just a little longer…well there was just so much to do here, to enjoy.  
Finding a small café on a street corner, he sat down and ordered a couple pastries. The tables outside provided him with a lovely view of the street and the people passing by. A quick miracle here, a nudge in the right direction there, Aziraphale smiled happily to himself, pastry in hand. See how much he could help people, at the same time as enjoying a delightful treat? Scanning the crowd, he caught a flash of bright red hair and paused. He knew that hair; he’d recognize it anywhere. Crowley. It had been a long ten years since they’d seen each other. Long and lonely. Aziraphale had had a lot of time to think after he left that morning and had very quickly come to the realization that he'd handled it badly. He’d also thought long and hard about how to fix it, how he could go back to that peace they’d shared that one night. And finally, he was ready. He just needed to catch him.  
“Crowley!” he called, jumping out of his seat and heading into the crowd. He began walking in the direction he’d seen the demon go, trying to be quick without shoving too many people in his way. To his dismay, it seemed Crowley had walked down the busiest street in the city, considering the amount of people in Aziraphale’s path. He called out for his friend again; maybe he would hear and stop, he’d wait for Aziraphale to catch up… Aziraphale stopped where he was standing, dead center of the street. Wait for him, what was he thinking? All Crowley had done was wait for him, and Aziraphale had thrown it back in his face. People around him began cursing him, shoving him back and forth, telling him to move or get out of the way. Despondent, he did as they requested, finding a stoop on the side of the road on which to sit. He continued watching the people pass by, but his previous cheer was gone, no miracles were doled out. Maybe Crowley would pass by this street again, maybe Aziraphale could still see him. Oh what if it never really was him? Aziraphale certainly had mistaken people for his favorite demon many times over the last ten years, but never had he been so sure about it. Never had his heartbeat quickened as suddenly, it had to be him. But where was he?   
“Looking for something?” A voice asked above him.  
Aziraphale whipped his head around to see a familiar figure leaning against the wall next to him.   
“Crowley!” he exclaimed, and jumped up to greet him. Just like that, his good mood reappeared and, falling back into habit, began telling Crowley of his doings in the city, the foods he’d tasted, the sights and favorite haunts. As he talked, their previous encounter brought itself to the front of his mind, clear as if it’d happened yesterday. What did Crowley think? Did he remember? Was he upset? If he was, why did he turn back to surprise Aziraphale like that? Was he angry now? Were they still friends? He certainly seemed as interested in Aziraphale’s ramblings as usual. Maybe he could still salvage things. Time to test the waters.   
“Oh, and there’s this lovely restaurant I’ve been meaning to try. I was planning on heading there tonight; would you care to join me?”  
Aziraphale felt the following silence cover him like a wet blanket, suffocating and uncomfortable. He tried his best to avoid fidgeting in the seconds it took Crowley to respond.   
"Are you sure it’s not a mistake?”  
Aziraphale worked hard to keep his wince of pain to himself. I guess I deserve that. Did that mean Crowley was still angry with him? But it'd been said so casually, as if Crowley genuinely wanted to be sure it was ok to do this. As if it was just some innocuous comment that happened to shake Aziraphale to the core. Deciding to ignore it for now, he replied,  
"Of course not, dear. I’ve heard their quiches are to die for.”  
Crowley nodded stiffly in return. “Right, then. Sure, yeah. I’ll-I’ll join you.”  
Aziraphale beamed. At least he’d managed something. “Splendid. Oh my dear, this’ll give us such a chance to catch up.” Crowley simply nodded again, looking around wildly. “Oh, forgive me, you must be busy. Temptations and all that, of course. Why don’t we reconvene later, say about seven? I’ll be at the square just down the road. That alright with you?”  
Crowley faced him again, but still seemed agitated, preoccupied. “Yeah, of course, angel. That’s fine.”  
Aziraphale grinned at him again and touched his hand lightly before bounding off, an evident light in his step.

Crowley slumped against the wall next to him. Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit. What? Why? How? The questions overwhelmed Crowley’s brain as he tried to make sense of what’d just happened. Hearing Aziraphale call his name had been the best and worst thing to happen in the last ten years. His first thought was to pretend he hadn’t heard, but the longing in the second call got to him. He just couldn’t leave Aziraphale like that. He turned back, but of course he had to surprise the angel, wouldn’t do to be sighted in the crowds. He didn’t know what he expected from that first greeting, let alone what he wanted. Then the angel had been all normal, as if nothing had happened, as if everything was the same, and though it hurt, Crowley thought, ok, I could do this. Fine, he…he forgot. Whatever, doesn’t matter. At least he seems happy to see me. But then his tongue had gotten away from him and before he could stop himself he used that word again. A mistake. Fortunately, he’d had enough control that it came out casually, enough to seem like genuine curiosity. However it sounded, even Crowley winced inwardly when he heard himself say it. That was a low blow. Dammit! And Aziraphale had been so pleased by his presence. He just couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut and just go along with the what the angel said as usual, could he? As much as what he’d said scared him, it still felt good to say. Ten years, and he was still no farther from falling apart. Everyday was a chore, Hell’s demands a welcome distraction, yet an infuriating, taxing job. He’d spent half the time alone drunk, and half sulking and doing the bare minimum to keep Hell happy (more than usual, that is). And now, now Aziraphale was in front of him again, and it was just that much harder. Not to collapse, not to cry, not to cling to Aziraphale until forcefully removed, and the angel wasn’t helping. So Crowley had slipped up, and honestly, it felt good to let out some of what he’d been feeling for so long. Only now, he had to deal with the consequences.   
Yet, once again, Aziraphale behaved as though this was completely normal, continuing to talk about that damned restaurant. Well, if that was how this was going to go, then so be it. Crowley was no stranger to restraint. This would be a piece of cake. All he had to do was pretend he wasn’t broken inside, that, for the first time, Aziraphale had done the breaking. All he had to do was not pour his heart out again, pretend he didn’t know the angel loved him, or had professed to, at any rate. All would be fine. It would seem astonishing to people that even though he was a demon, Crowley was not very good at lying. He was, however, extremely good at lying to himself. 

Aziraphale opened the door to the establishment he had chosen for the evening, stepped aside and gestured for Crowley to enter ahead of him. The two entered the warmly lot room, choosing a table at the far back at which to eat. Aziraphale, as per usual, ordered a three course meal, in which he indulged with gusto, his customary moans and sighs of approval a symphony for Crowley’s enjoyment. The demon, on the other hand, ordered lots of wine and little more than an appetizer or two, as he was want to do. Aziraphale spent the meal chatting aimlessly between bites, talking of the assignments he’d been given, oddities in his travels, and anything else he’d not been able to share with Crowley in the ten years they’d been apart. All in all, it seemed as though Aziraphale had truly forgotten what had prompted that decade of separation. While at first Crowley had been tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop, as the night wore on, he relaxed, allowing himself to sink into the warmth and comfort of Aziraphale’s presence. Even with his heart broken, there was nothing that soothed him more than the angel’s smile, his giggles, and enthusiasm for the earthly delights he enjoyed. So comfortable was he, that when dessert came around, he was knocked completely off guard.  
Aziraphale had just dug into his cake, when he paused, set the fork back down and looked up at Crowley. That was enough to set him on edge – dessert was always the angel’s favorite part – yet what followed chilled him to the bone.   
“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, voice uncharacteristically soft, “I owe you an apology.”  
“What for?” Crowley tried to keep his tone neutral over the thudding of his heart in his chest.   
“I behaved abominably to you the last time we were together and I…” he trailed off at Crowley’s quiet growl and the vehement shaking of his head.  
“No. We’re not having this conversation, angel,” he ground out through clenched teeth.  
Aziraphale’s eyes grew so sad, Crowley felt it like a punch to the gut. But no, it was impossible; they weren’t going through this again. Crowley had just managed to lock all his feelings away, keep them where they wouldn’t hurt anyone, and Aziraphale wanted to undo all that hard work.  
“But I really must apologize,” he protested.  
Crowley held back as much of his anger as he could, “No, it’s fine. You don’t have to.”  
Aziraphale shook his head, reaching a hand out to the shaking demon opposite him. “Crowley, I—”  
“No!” Crowley slammed his hand on the table, standing up abruptly. He forced his voice steady as he said as calmly as he could manage, “Don’t do this to me, angel. I can’t do this. You say one more word and I’m leaving.”  
Aziraphale’s eyes filled with tears and if that wasn’t considered cheating, what was. Damn that angel and his kindness. Damn Crowley and his stupidly soft heart that still, after being smashed on, could no more deny Aziraphale than stop loving him.  
“You must at least let me explain,” he pleaded, eyes wide and shining. “I know you must have been confused, let me just explain.” When Crowley still didn’t respond, he gently laid a hand on his and whispered, “Please.”  
Crowley’s resolve crumbled, along with the rest of the wall inside his heart, and he said  
“Not here. Fine, we can talk; you can… just not here.”  
Aziraphale gave him a wan smile, which he cherished (traitorous heart), and led him back out into the night.   
“I… I have a villa close by, would that be suitable?”  
Crowley nodded wordlessly, and they set off together to Aziraphale’s current home.


	4. Rewind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not edited again, sorry. So, I don't know if I should continue after this. I meant to write all the way to apocalypse time, but I realized as I finished this chapter, I could leave it like this instead. If I get a lot of notes I might add on a few scenes, but this really accomplishes what I wanted it to. Let me know what you think.

Aziraphale led Crowley cautiously through his spacious lodgings to the sitting room. All throughout dinner, Aziraphale had tried to behave as normal, enjoying his meal as always, but the weight pressing on his heart left every bite with a bitter aftertaste. By dessert, he could hold it in no longer – nor bring himself to ruin a perfectly good treat like that – and brought to light the topic they’d both ignored for a decade.   
Now, here, in his villa, Aziraphale knew it was time to have the while story out in the open. While Crowley sprawled on one of the chaises situated in the lounge, Aziraphale took to pacing the floor, holding his hands in front of him, trying not to fidget too much. He could feel Crowley’s gaze on him through his sunglasses, but could not bring himself to look him in the eye. Steeling himself for any reaction, he began the only way he knew how.  
“I’m sorry, Crowley. I’m so sorry. I behaved abominably to you, I hurt you; you opened yourself to me and I pushed you away. I have spent the last decade regretting what I did with all my heart. I should never have left you.” Chancing a look at Crowley, he took in the forced casual posture, the eerie stillness, the hard line of his mouth and hoped to God he hadn’t hurt him beyond recovery.   
“Why did you then?” The hurt in his voice was palpable and Aziraphale tried not to fall to his knees in front of him, begging him to take him back. Instead he closed his eyes against the pain and confessed,  
“I was scared. I was so scared, Crowley. Of what I felt, of ruining it, of Heaven; I was too blinded to think there was any way out of this without you getting hurt.” He opened his eyes and did step forward then, kneeling a few feet in front of Crowley, and finally, his tears started to fall. He hadn’t let himself cry then, the night he’d left, he’d been afraid he’d never stop. He avoided punishing himself for hurting his love and did what he’d always done: hid his feelings away so they couldn’t touch him. He wasn’t going to do that anymore. Now the emotion of ten years flooded his eyes and he accepted it. Crowley deserved no less than that – in fact, he deserved all Aziraphale could give him. “I’d just had the best night of my life, and there was nothing I wanted more than to stay with you, but I let my fear take over and I thought the only way to move forward, to keep you safe, was to leave. You were so warm and lovely, and you asked me to stay and it was so hard to say no. I tried to explain, but you kept trying and I knew that if I let you continue, I wouldn’t leave. So I…” Aziraphale looked Crowley in the eye, determined not to back down from this, no matter how much it hurt. “So I said the one thing I knew would make you give up. I hurt you, I made you think I didn’t love you, and I do, Crowley,” he grasped his hands with his, “I do. And I’m so sorry, I’ll never pull away from you again, I’ll never lie to you, or push you away. I don’t know if you can ever forgive me, or if you’ll even want to be friends, but I had to tell you. And if you can never love be again—”  
“You stupid angel.” Crowley’s voice cane out soft and pained. He leaned forward in his seat, until he and Aziraphale were inches apart. “Over five thousand years. I’ve loved you for over five thousand years, you really think you rejecting me would change that? What’s one more added to the list?”  
“Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale could hold back no more, and threw himself into Crowley’s lap. “Oh, my dear, I’ve hurt you terribly, haven’t I? You’ve suffered so much. No more, darling, no more.” He rained kisses down on Crowley’s neck, his jaw, his cheek. He held him close, arms wrapped around his neck, murmuring, “I love you, I love you, I do, I love you, Crowley, my love, my sweet, my Crowley.” After some time, he realized Crowley was not holding him back. He leaned back and asked gently  
“My love?”  
To Aziraphale’s dismay, Crowley was still wearing those blasted glasses, however they did nothing to conceal the fact that Crowley was crying.  
“I can’t…I can’t do this again. Don’t ask me to do this again. You-you can’t…I won’t… I won’t survive if you break me again. I love you, angel, but I can’t… I just can’t again.”  
Aziraphale lifted his hands and rested them on the frames Crowley wore. He waited until Crowley nodded his assent and slid them off the demon's face. His golden eyes were reddened and swollen from crying, filled with pain and suffering, - and love, so much love – and Aziraphale thought they were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.  
“My love, I told you, I’ll never leave you. That does mean there isn’t danger, or that we won’t have to be careful, but I promise, you will never have cause to doubt my love for you again.”   
Crowley stared hard at Aziraphale, hope rising in his eyes. Slowly, he reached out and put his hands on the angel’s waist. With minimal movement, he soothed his sides, exhaling heavily at the motion. Ever so gently, Aziraphale took his face in his hands and brought their lips together. Crowley sighed and, as with a flip of a switch, suddenly turned on. His hands tightened on Aziraphale’s waist and he leaned in, seeking more of Aziraphale; his taste, his scent, his touch. Aziraphale parted Crowley’s lips with his tongue, and the demon keened into his mouth. His whole body felt on fire, more alive than he’d felt for a long time.   
Aziraphale was lost in ecstasy, when a hitched sob escaped Crowley’s throat. Immediately he pulled away, suddenly noticing the Crowley’s tears that had mingled on his cheeks during their kiss.  
He ran his hands through Crowley’s gorgeous locks – shoulder length at the moment – to soothe him.  
“Darling, oh darling. What have I done? Have I hurt you? Are you ok? What’s wrong, love?”  
Crowley buried his head in Aziraphale’s chest, arms wrapping around him and holding on for dear life. “Dammit, angel, I thought I’d lost you,” he mumbled through his tears into Aziraphale’s shirt. “I had you, and then you were gone; I had no idea if I’d ever see you again, if you would ever speak to me, I—” he broke off, voice too choked up to continue.  
Aziraphale continued to play with his hair, shushing him gently. “I know, sweetheart. I know, but that’s all over now, I promise. Don’t worry, I’m here, I won’t leave you. I’m so sorry I hurt you, darling. I’m so sorry.” He pressed kiss after kiss to the demon’s scarlet hair, until Crowley calmed down enough to draw away.  
“Don’t leave me,” he implored once more, and Aziraphale’s heart broke again at the lingering panic in his voice.  
“Never,” he reassured him, certain that he would keep doing so for as long as necessary, until Crowley’s fears were gone. “I’m not leaving you.”  
Crowley breathed out deeply, and while he was far from calm, he seemed to have let most of the tension go. While he’d still had to go through the last ten years, the here and now – along with hope for what was to come – pushed his insecurities to the back of his mind, and he allowed himself to relax in his angel’s embrace.  
After some time, sitting quietly, wrapped in each other, Aziraphale lifted his head to look his love in the face, fingertips brushing his jawline.  
“Come on, love, let’s go to bed. It’s been a long ten years.”  
Crowley sighed, allowing the angel to pull him to his feet, leading him through the house to some sleeping quarters.   
The bedroom was relatively large, a wardrobe and desk in one corner, the king-sized bed taking up most of the remaining space. The pristine state of the bedcovers, as well as the general feeling of vacancy in the room, led Crowley to believe Aziraphale hadn’t been using the bedchamber until now. The lack of books strewn about the room, forgotten cups of various beverages on multiple surfaces – telltale signs of Aziraphale’s presence – proved his theory further.  
“Is this not your room, then?” Crowley asked, standing awkwardly by the bed.   
Aziraphale shook his head, sliding his arms out of his coat. “You know I don’t normally sleep.” He kept his eyes averted from Crowley’s as he continued. “After that night…after I… I tried sleeping a few times; it didn’t work. Wasn’t the same, I wanted…you weren’t there,” he finished, cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink.  
Crowley took slow, deliberate steps forward so he could lay a comforting hand on his angel’s arm. It was strange that even after the confessions and affection downstairs, there was still so much awkwardness between them. Then again, six thousand years – not to mention an additional decade – of denial and separation were hard to overcome. This would take time, and Crowley was willing to go through any amount of awkwardness to have less than half the attention Aziraphale had given him in the last ten minutes. Step by step, that’s all it was. And Crowley was taking the next one.  
“I’m here now, angel,” he soothed, and the principality looked up at him with those huge blue eyes, saying, yes, you’re here. I missed you, stay, hold me, don’t let go. What a coincidence Crowley was prepared to do just that. With a wave of his hand, they both were clad in sleepwear (Crowley assured Aziraphale his finely tailored clothes were safe and nearly folded in the wardrobe) and together they climbed under the covers.  
Learning how well their shapes fit together was just as sweet as the first time. Legs and chests and heads were pressed together and just as before, a feeling of utter peace came over them. However, this time, they were not quiet, not still. Quiet “I love you”s and soft kisses were shared between them, and eventually they did fall asleep, completely intertwined and blissfully content. Crowley knew this wouldn’t be forever, he’d heard what Aziraphale said, they still had much to talk about, but for now, all was perfect, the morning was far away and not worth thinking about. Possible future problems were nothing to worry about, they didn’t matter. Aziraphale was here, in his arms, Aziraphale loved him. And THAT is what mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you've realized the new arrangement is basically the same as before, only, there's more kissing and obvious gestures of love. I didnt want it straying too far from canon. This way other canon scenes could be "fixed" (as I said, more kissing). I think I'll leave it like this for now, might add something later.


End file.
